#hence the claws (?)

[inzuinzudesu]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 310

Shadow core Danny? Shadow core Danny with Hazmat AU? Indeed, with a hint of a twist. 

See that hazmat helmet beneath the hood? Yeah that’s erm, that might be his actual face now. It might be able to split open into a proper maw, as he found out during one of the early fights. He thinks it might be a shadow-core thing though, because Fright Knight has something similar, along with the Keeper. Who's apparently a ghost that keeps track of other shadow-ghosts, which, cool. Cool library covered in flesh, nothing spooky there. 

He mentions this? Because apparently even if all ghosts partially feed on emotions, shadow cores need Fear the most. Which, thankfully shadow cores are apparently more rare than he’d expect, so he’s not going to go into a territorial frenzy or something on a bad day, yay! 

But uh, he might… count as a ghostling since he’s only a year dead- in fact he’ll continue to be as such until he’s at least 100 years dead, since he didn’t die as an adult. Which in turn… means he needs even more fear, at least until he’s old enough to generate it on his own. 

So what’s a ghostling to do? Take a trip to one of the most fear-soaked cities in the world, y’know, just a little weekend trip every month. Gotham isn’t that bad, and he can stay invisible- mostly! What’s going to happen, he run into a vigilante? Ha… oh no.

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

art block got me like:

[wingsofwater]

peach pit

[ID : a chubby skywing dragon named Pyrite, who has yellowish-orange scales with a lighter yellow underbelly and dark freckles across her scales, resembling the inside of a peach. she has a crest of dark spines along the back of her neck and on the tip of her tail, antler-like horns, her body is dappled with scars, and she wears a cord around her neck like a choker. she is sitting down, facing towards the left, with her wings held open and an uncertain expression on her face. the background is a teal rectangle with white peach blossoms overlayed on top of it. END ID]

[tundraaawolf]

Ooohhhhh to have jet black fur and bright amber eyes

And to have my fur turn a beautiful shade of blackened rust under the sun......

[voidendron]

experimental piece that was a lot of fun!

also uh. a liiiittle bit of an excuse to draw a new detail for her..

[Soren uses he/she/they]

[higgs-the-god]

what if they were xogs too........................

[olberic]

literally paused my episode of beast wars bc the idea of drawing blackarachnia possessed me. she deserves sooo much more than what the show gives her. shes an unwilling convert to the predacon side but clings to her predacon identity with everything she has. shes a femme fatale. shes a scientist. shes willing to kill herself and everything around her for her freedom. she falls for the goody-two-shoes. shes the goth juliet to the maximals' romeo. shes never allowed to grow as a character outside of the men in the show. she wants control. she clings to it with everything shes got when she gets it. she doesnt want to be "good" she wants to be herself and only what she chooses for herself.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

wait wait wait remember when I made that reference to solar's past in celestial symphony au

what if he got into mechanics because he felt the need to modify himself after the developers told him he was defective...

[memento-morri-writes]

writing share - body horror edition

So, the lovely, amazing @space-writes expressed interest in reading my fucked-up body horror that I wrote last night/early this morning, and who am I to deny a friend? So, here you go:

A brief bit of context: Just under two days ago, Sigmar, Rook's beloved mentor and kinda-sorta father figure, ended up being revealed as a corpse being puppeted by the BBEG, Dr. Purity. The rest of the party brutally killed him while Rook watched. (Via tooth and claw, and also a sonic shockwave from a magic guitar.) And just today, Warren, the party gunslinger, a werewolf and Rook's other kinda-sorta father figure, died (like perma-forever, never-coming-back died) in order to save Rook's life. (Or rather, in order to resurrect Rook, since he was dead at the time.) Now Rook is extremely sleep-deprived and also being affected by mind-altering parasites, two factors that are working together to give him some pretty vivid and fucked-up hallucinations.

(fair warning, this isn't written out fully to the best of my abilities because this scene hasn't happened yet. So this is just my description of what Rook will be seeing and hearing, not a full prose write-up with his internal thoughts and all that. I will almost certainly do that after next week's session, though, so let me know if you want to see that then.)

major tw for extreme gore & maybe body horror under the cut (also emotional manipulation/guilt-tripping)

Rook hears a strange sound, like clumsy, disjointed footsteps. He looks around wildly for the source, and freezes. Out of the hallway we have just come from looms a horrible sight: Sigmar’s corpse is lurching towards him, somehow propelling itself on shattered limbs. All of his joints are dislocated, giving his body a freakishly elongated appearance. His shredded clothes are soaked with blood, and every inch of his skin is covered in hundreds of claw and tooth marks, all of which are weeping blood. A web of dark black veins branch out across his face, and thick black ichor drips from his mouth. It falls to the ground, splattering onto the tile with each step.  He reaches out towards Rook with jagged, broken fingers, and says, “Rook… your friends killed me. Slaughtered me. Ripped me to pieces like wild animals.” He takes another staggering step towards Rook, who backs away, shaking. Sigmar’s face is pleading as he says, “You said you trusted me. You promised to help me.” Rook takes another stumbling step backwards, shaking his head. “No…” he mutters, “no!” Sigmar points an accusing finger at Rook, and his demeanor changes, a dark fury crossing his face. For a moment Rook can see why people fear him. “I should never have spoken to you. I should have burned down Warren’s house with you still inside. It’s what the two of you deserve.” As if on cue, another shape lurches out of the shadows of a hallway across the way. It’s Warren. His chest has been blown open, his ribs pointing in every direction, and the remains of his guts are dripping from the hole where his stomach used to be. His body is splattered in gore. He’s missing one of his hands, the arm ending in a jagged point of bone surrounded by burnt and blackened flesh. He opens his mouth to speak, revealing pointed canine teeth that clash with his human appearance. “Rook, you stupid bastard. I died for you. You.” He bares his teeth and snarls at Rook, an animalistic sound that rattles him to his core. He takes an involuntary half-step backwards. Warren scoffs in disdain. “We should have left you to rot in that fungi-infested hallway. You brought him to us.” He glares pointedly at Sigmar, then looks back to Rook. “You’re the reason those two attacked us – attacked Cherry. You’re the reason I’m dead. The reason Cherry won’t ever have a father.” Sigmar steps closer, looking Rook up and down, disgust plainly visible on his face. “Speaking of fathers, yours was right: You are a useless piece of shit.” He spits in Rook’s direction, then takes another step closer.  Across the room, Warren moves to flank him. “Traitor.” “Liar,” Sigmar adds as the two stalk closer, matching each other step for step.  The corpses lumber forwards, stumbling on broken legs until they’re so close that Rook can smell them. The awful scents of Warren’s burnt flesh and the blood soaking Sigmar’s clothes fill his nose, nauseating and overwhelming. They’re right in front of him now. He tries to shrink away, further into the corner, but to no avail. His limbs refuse to obey, and he stays frozen in place. They reach for him, one with shattered fingers, the other with a charred stump of an arm, and say in unison, “good-for-nothing”. As they do, he hears a third voice layered over the other two: his father. But he doesn’t have time to think on this, because in that moment their outstretched arms reach him, and everything goes black.

[msnihilist]

Another headcanon for the Monday-verse I have is that, unlike our Doc and Drew, Doc and Drew Monday planned for Zak to be born with his powers.

...If only because I can't think of any other reason why the two of them would have had a child in the first place, especially not continue to keep him around despite the fact that they detest him.

[clawsextended]

on a note to all: my plotting style is something i like to call i have adhd and if i see you on the dash and have an idea chances are i’ll im you about it. i’m an anxious little dude who isn’t always active in a broad scope, and it’s always been my nature to reach out to people. that doesn’t make me even remotely anxious. not even remotely expected to answer me — i totally get it, sometimes you don’t feel the vibe — but a general psa about how i work. i come from the dinosaur era where the only way to communicate with one another on any level was to directly talk to them and frankly i don’t even know how else you’re ever supposed to plot with a person otherwise. like… how do you write if you never talk????

[sundrykitsch]

serious character analysis

[justsomeoneunordinary]

hear me out:

[transhitman]

The Tickster mts* transition timeline

*masochist to sadist